n began the real farewell. Jesus was going away,
and he longed to be remembered. This was a wonderfully human desire.
No one wishes to be forgotten. No thought could be sadder than that
one might not be remembered after he is gone, that in no heart his name
shall be cherished, that nowhere any memento of him shall be preserved.
We all hope to live in the love of our friends long after our faces
have vanished from earth. The deeper and purer our love may have been,
and the closer our friendship, the more do we long to keep our place in
the hearts of those we have loved.

There are many ways in which men seek to keep their memory alive in the
world. Some build their own tomb: few things are more pathetic than
such planning for earthly immortality. Some seek to do deeds which
will live in history. Some embalm their names in books, hoping thus to
perpetuate them. Love's enshrining is the best way.

The institution of the Last Supper showed the craving of the heart of
Jesus to be remembered. "Do not forget me when I am gone," he said.
That he might not be forgotten, he took bread and wine, and, breaking
the one and pouring out the other, he gave them to his friends as
mementos of himself. He associated this farewell meal with the great
acts of his redeeming love. "This bread which I break, let it be the
emblem of my body broken to be bread for the world. This wine which I
empty out, let it be the emblem of my blood which I give for you."
Whatever else the Lord's Supper may mean, it is first of all a
remembrancer; it is the expression of the Master's desire to be
remembered by his friends. It comes down to us--Christ's friends of
to-day--with the same heart-craving. "Remember me; do not forget me;
think of my love for you." Jesus' farewell was thus made wondrously
sacred; its memories have blessed the world ever since by their warmth
and tenderness. No one can ever know the measure of the influence of
that last night in the upper room upon the life of these nineteen
Christian centuries.

The Lord's Supper was not all of the Master's farewell. There were
also words spoken which have been bread and wine, the body and blood of
Jesus, to believers ever since. To the eleven men gathered about that
table these words were inexpressibly precious. One of them, one who
leaned his head upon the Master's breast that night, remembered them in
his old age, and wrote them down, so that we can read them for
ourselves.